Chat
by jibber59
Summary: After countless threats, promises and plans, Chris finally lays down the law and has a long overdue chat with Ezra. (ATF universe) Rating is for adult language and references to suicide. Also, a fair bit of Angst in this one.


_I can't count the number of times I have come close to putting this scene into a story, but it always seemed anticlimactic to or out of sync with the original story, so the notion remained an implied part of several tales. That didn't stop me from writing it, and a review from_ MAC _inspired me to go ahead an polish it up to publish it as it's own little stand alone piece._

 **Chat**

Chris paced the room restlessly, staring from time to time at the empty bed. Nothing to be concerned about, the doctors assured him. A bit of post-operative bleeding was not at all uncommon. Sure. Well in his book, bleeding **was** uncommon. He paused on his travels. That was inaccurate. In his world, in their world, bleeding was all too common. And Ezra seemed to do more of it than the others. Combined. Chris would have been willing to bet the man had been transfused so many times he didn't have a drop of his own blood left.

He debated quickly with himself when the pulsing of the cell phone in his pocket made his jacket vibrate – for a third time. He didn't have to look to know the call was from one of the others, asking for an update. He hadn't heard from Vin or JD recently, so they were odds on favorite. Buck was pretty impatient as well. Not answering it would get the guys worried. Answering it would mean he'd have to tell them that Ezra was back in surgery. Which would bring them all down here before he would be able to finish the sentence. Not that he could blame them. He'd be doing the same if he'd been one of the group sent home from the hospital and threatened with permanent expulsion if they didn't give their teammate at least 12 hours of solitude. When they were told only one could stay, there was no room for debate. There never was when Chris was angry, and right now he was as pissed off as he could remember being in some time.

It wasn't the first time Ezra had done something foolish and ended up flat out on a hospital bed, and God knows, it wasn't likely to be the last. One of these times though, it could be, and the reality of that seemed to hit Chris harder each time he found himself waiting for news on any of his men. But this time, this one had been too close, and beyond any shadow of a doubt, the stupidest thing the gambler had ever done. Because that's what this had been – gambling. Nothing less.

Oh, he knew what Ezra would call it. A calculated gambit. A carefully considered tactic. A strategic manoeuvre. Chris had another word. Bullshit. Pure, unmitigated, absolute and unforgivable bullshit.

All Ezra had to do was stall. When these crud-for-brains smugglers had somehow concluded that Josiah and JD were cops – and how that could have happened defied logic – all Ezra needed to do was stall. Just a few minutes. The man could talk the ears off a statue when he wanted to. He could have stalled these dumber-than-dirt hicks without breaking a sweat. But no. He had to play hero. He had to suggest to these idiots that if killing one cop was bad, and two cops was worse, then killing three was just flat out suicidal. Naturally, they were pissed off to find he was the third cop and took it out on him rather than Josiah and JD. True, nobody got shot. At least, nobody that Chris gave a damn about. Because when he and Buck charged into the garage where all of this was going down and saw Ezra on the ground about to be kicked in the head by a thug wearing construction boots, they both fired instantly. The reports would say they identified themselves first, because it was second nature for them to do so. They convinced themselves they had covered that base. Two more thugs were on the ground almost as quickly, although it did seem likely they would survive their injuries. Vin hadn't seen how busted up Ezra was when he fired, or it might have been a different story.

The vibrating of the phone took his attention again. Reluctantly he pulled it from his pocket and glanced down. Buck. Wonderful. This would be fun. He didn't even get the "hello" out of his mouth.

"What the fuck Chris? Is he OK? Why aren't you answering the phone. Why ain't you answering me?"

"Because you haven't shut up long enough for me to get a word in." He took a slow breath. "They took him back to surgery about 45 minutes ago."

"And you felt this was something we didn't need to know because…?"

"No need Buck. There was some minor bleeding they wanted to get under control. Apparently, it was too small to notice the first time and they'd had him in surgery long enough not to go poking around at that point. It's not serious."

"It's surgery Chris, that makes it serious." Nathan responded.

"You might have warned me I was on speaker, Buck." He barked at him. "You don't all need to be coming down. He'll be out soon and be sleeping - again - for a while after that."

JD didn't think it added up. "So how come you're sticking around if there's nothing to worry about."

"Because I plan to be here when he wakes up."

Vin shook his head at him, forgetting it wouldn't be seen. "Don't do it Chris. You're too angry right now."

"Damn straight I'm angry. And sick and tired of this crap from him."

"Which is why this isn't the time to confront him." Josiah reasoned, knowing it would do no good.

"Yeah, and then it's not time when he gets home from the latest injury and is trying to rest. Then I can't do it 'cause he's prepping the next case, and it will be distracting. Never get to sit him down and straighten him out, and damn it, this time I am not letting him off the hook."

"Keep shouting like that they'll kick you out before you get the chance."

"They can try Buck, but they won't succeed."

No one spoke for several seconds, waiting to see what he would say next. "Chris - you still there?"

"Yes Josiah. I'm here. And I'll keep myself in check. But I'm not leaving until I either get through to him or fire him. Because I sure as shit have no intention of letting him die on my watch."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Ezra looked like crap. There was no other way to describe it. As far as Chris could tell, every inch of the man was a colour it shouldn't be. The relatively few areas of skin that weren't bandaged or covered by a cast of some kind were definitely not skin-tone. Ugly red welts and scratches were visible on the arm that wasn't wrapped in a brace. His neck had a similar welt from the rope burn. Being dragged across the rough floor had left him with long abraded patches. And the bruises were everywhere. A nasty one was visible on his shoulder from the kick that cracked his collarbone. Handprint impressions were scattered up and down his arms from the grip that held him while he was being pummelled. His jaw line was swollen. Not as badly as the left eye was, which was pretty much sealed shut at this point. Right eye looked almost normal by comparison. Broken nose, fractured cheekbone. No wonder the doctor planned to refer him to a plastic surgeon when he was strong enough. Chris wondered if Ezra would go for the gold when he got these missing teeth replaced.

As bad as all that was, it was the skin that wasn't a technicolour wonder that made Chris's mouth go dry. Here again, not what anyone would call skin tone. So pale, so white it didn't look human. The overall affect was enough to make the man glad he hadn't bothered with supper, since he doubted he'd have kept it down.

The nurse gave him an encouraging smile when she came in to check her patient. "He came through surgery like a trooper."

"He's had enough practice at it."

"Yes, he is a bit of a regular on the ward. Of course, we've seen you stretched out here a few times as well."

"He's got us all beat." Chris sat heavily in the chair. "He's gonna push too far one of these times."

She placed the chart back at the foot of the bed and walked over to him. "Not this time. He really is going to be fine, despite how he looks right now. You need to get some rest. He won't wake up for hours." Chris gave her a small smile of thanks but stayed where he was. She hadn't expected anything else. Which is why, just a few minutes later, a large chair was brought into the room. Chris shifted over to it, making a mental note to see to it flowers were sent to the nurse's station as soon as he was alert enough to do so.

He didn't leave the room through the night. He'd moved the chair close enough he could rest his hand on Ezra's, hoping the awareness he wasn't alone would help the resting man feel more secure. He knew he'd dozed off a few times, startled away by soft moans or hints of movement from the bed.

Waking up, for whatever the reason, was a relief. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Ezra lying on the floor, a battered mess. He could feel himself rushing to his side, imaging the worst _. Ezra was barely breathing and desperately trying to choke out words when Chris gently rolled him. "Shhhh Ezra, don't try to talk. Ambulance is on the way."_

 _"_ _I am so sorry. I tried."_

 _"_ _Shhhh Ezra, don't. Nothing to be sorry about. You did fine."_

 _He was trembling violently, gasping to breathe and clawing weakly at Chris's arm. "Tell...others. Tell Buck I'm sorry. Tried but…"_

 _He finally understood. Ezra had heard the shots that took down his attackers but didn't know who had fired them. "Ezra, no. JD and Josiah are fine. We're getting them untied is all. They weren't hurt Ezra. You hear me?" When he got no response, he shouted for the others to get their asses over to him. An instant later JD was beside him, with Josiah just a step behind. "I right here Ezra." The young man was trying not to let fear colour his voice. "We both are. Tell him Josiah. Tell him we're ok."_

 _"_ _He's right son. You did fine. Shouldn't have done it. Shouldn't have let them go after you like that." Josiah didn't bother to fight the emotions. Chris watched him gently stroke at Ezra's face, trying to find a spot that wouldn't bring more pain. One side of the handcuffs that had bound him was still dangling, and the raw wounds from trying to break free were evident. Ezra would have been upset to see them on his big friend._

 _"_ _Alive?" Ezra gasped out softly. "You both…" A weak grin appeared. "How unexpectedly wonderful." The grin faded as his head lolled to one side and his eyes closed._

He sat up with a start. He looked to the bed immediately to reaffirm again that Ezra has survived. The doctor had actually said he was lucky. No major organ damage, but several small wounds and more injuries than would fit on a standard medical report. The second surgery had, they hoped, prepared the remaining damage, a few tears that had been hidden by the swelling and bleeding from the first go around. Could have been worse, the doctor kept saying. Chris could only imagine one was that was true.

He stood and stretched his stiff muscles. Fourteen hours. Felt more like fourteen days at this point. Knowing the team would be huddled together, waiting for any news, he reached for his phone to provide the rather limited update he could offer. A soft tap at the door stopped him. Vin poked his head around. "Safe to come in?"

"You alone?"

Vin entered, nodding. "Wasn't easy, but I convinced the others that either the staff or you would just throw us out, and Ezra didn't need that kind of fuss going on around him. How's he doing?"

"Drifting in and out. Hasn't opened his eyes yet."

Walking closer, Vin winced at the bruises and swelling. "How would you be able to tell."

"If he was awake, he'd be talking." Chris grinned, getting an affirmation from Vin on the fact. "That thermos have coffee?"

"Yes, and not mine. Filled it up at the diner on my way over." He handed it and a small warm bag over. "Couple of breakfast sandwiches too. Figured you didn't eat." Chris was surprised when his stomach growled in appreciation. He wasted no time in chowing down on the first one.

"You don't really plan on firing him – do you."

Chris shook his head, still chewing and swallowed before replying. "Don't know. Pretty much gonna depend on what he has to say for himself."

"Well you know he's just gonna bullshit you until you give up."

"Not giving up. Not this time." He paused. "Do you know how many times he's spent at least a night in the hospital? I've come up with close to a dozen, and I don't doubt I'm forgetting a few."

"You figuring in the times he wouldn't stay and signed himself out?"

"No. Not sure as I can count that high. And don't say we've all been here. You know he's worse for it."

"The undercover stuff he does kind of lends itself to that."

Chris disagreed. "No, it's the way he does the stuff that causes the problem. If there is an easy way and a hard one, you know which he'll pick."

"Hard one generally works better."

Chris looked at the bed, then back to Vin. "You call this better?"

As much as he would have like to, Vin couldn't argue the point. Ezra was hell bent for leather to go all the way when he went on any job. Never enough to get the little guy, he wanted the man at the top each time. And yes, that made for some dicey situations. The higher-ups in the bureau had no qualms about signing off on the assignments. They all loved the positive results, and the positive press that high-profile arrests brought.

"If you are going to talk to him Chris, you need to remember to talk – not yell."

"Gonna do whatever it takes to get through to him."

Vin understood but still worried about the action, and the outcome.

"Just keep in mind, you're gonna have to deal with the rest of us if you get out of hand. And it won't make a bit of difference what your motive was, or the fact that technically you're our boss."

"I'm trying to keep him alive Vin."

"Don't doubt that. Just be sure you don't kill the soul while you try to keep the body alive."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Ezra woke in confusion several times over the next few hours. Chris was there each time, watching him, reassuring him that the others were fine. He'd had to repeat that detail each time at first, but eventually it seemed to register. It wasn't until after dinner that Ezra seemed to really wake up. More alert, more aware of his surroundings.

"I would think the time has come for you to find a more comfortable location to pass the night Chris. I would suggest your bed would be the most logical destination."

"Not ready to head out yet."

Ezra tried to sound calm. "Is there a reason you are unwilling to leave me on my own. Perhaps a detail or diagnosis that the medicos here have neglected to share with me?"

"Nothing like that Ezra. Like we told you, you'll be a while 'til you feel better, but it will happen."

"So your reason for loitering here…?"

"Waiting till you feel up to having the little chat I keep threatening you with."

That brought a weak but relieved grin to the injured man. "Ah, the inevitable 'we need to talk' moment. Really, there is no such requirement, I assure you."

"Got to disagree with you on that."

"Well then, perhaps in a few days when I am less fatigued. Surely we can postpone this to a later date."

"No, not later Ezra. We always say later, and you always manage to worm your way out of hearing what any of us has to say."

"Worm my way? Really Chris, something with a bit more dignity would be more befitting to me. More reflective of my personality. Charm my way out. Finagle would be acceptable. Wangle has a homespun appeal that I am sure Buck would appreciate. Wheedle would even be acceptable."

Chris stood unblinking with his arms folded across his chest. He hoped that helped to hide the clenching of his fists, knowing Ezra would enjoy the fact he was succeeding at getting on his nerves.

"You done stalling?"

"I am not stalling. I am simply requesting that you elect to use language more attuned to my nature. More appropriate to my character."

"You want words that reflect your character? Let's start with infuriating. You like that one? Exasperating? That fancy enough for you? Irritating, maddening, galling, vexing –"

Ezra arched an eyebrow in that manner he knew Chris found – well, vexing. "Vexing is it? Have you come into the possession of a thesaurus?"

"Don't need one. Spend enough time around you and a body is bound to learn all kinds of words. Want to hear a few more? Reckless. Careless. Irresponsible. Thoughtless."

"Yes, those do seem appropriate more often than not."

"How about arrogant? Conceited? Insufferable? Smug? Egotistical? Self-serving? Unreliable? Duplicitous?"

Ezra was glad he was lying down, as he could feel himself going weak. He had no idea he had angered Chris this much. Teasing their leader, goading him was one thing. But to bring this much rancor out, Ezra had clearly gone to far. The sad thing was, every word Chris was using was 100% accurate. "You have yet to utter an adjective that is inappropriate, and I applaud your expanding vocabulary."

"OK then, since I'm on a role, let me toss out a few more."

"I think you have accurately summed up your case. We can give the exercise a rest."

"No, not yet. Still have a few choice ones in mind. How about heroic? Selfless? Courageous? Noble? Decent? Compassionate? Authentic?"

Ezra forced the one functioning eye to open. "I was unaware that you had suffered a head trauma during the incident that resulted in my current status. I can come up with no other reason for the abrupt departure from accuracy you have taken."

Chris growled low in his chest. "Figured you'd see it that way. Damn it Ezra, when are you going to get it through that thick, busted-up skull of yours that we don't see you as that first guy anymore? Haven't for a very long time now. You don't have to keep proving yourself to us."

"Where would you begin to develop the thought-"

"Stow it. You manage to beat yourself up a hell of a lot worse than those jackasses could. They only managed to bust a few bones. You've spent a lifetime battering your spirit to dust, haven't you? Done such a good job it's sometimes hard to know if there is anything left of it."

"Josiah will be perturbed to realize you are taking of his position on the team. I was unaware you had sufficient training to act as a profiler." Ezra's tone had turned colder, and there was no lightness to the comment.

"Don't need training to see what's right in front of me. My problem is that I kept on denying it. Kept seeing it as some kind of bad luck that balanced out the rest of your ways. Anybody who rakes in the poker chips the way you do has to lose some of that good fortune in another spot. It's what Josiah would call balance – or maybe karma."

"It is what I call malarkey."

"Yeah, I get that now. It ain't bad luck, and you're telling me it ain't some kind of cosmic payback, so I'm down to one option. When did you become suicidal Ezra? How did the psych evaluations not pick up on that?"

"That merely confirms my suspicions. You **were** hit in the head at some point during the altercation Mr. Larabee. Because while I agree with you that one of us might be certifiable, I disagree with your conclusion on which one."

"It was a hell of a lot more than an altercation or incident Ezra. And I see you've fallen back to the 'mister' crap again. Defense mechanisms are up and in place. And yes, that's one I got from Josiah. You get mad, scared, you protect yourself by stepping back from the folks trying to help you."

"This is how you elect to help me? Social services must be relieved you did not attempt to pursue a career in the field of counselling."

Chris stopped the pacing that had resumed as his frustration mounted. Clearly, he had riled Ezra and while that generally made him feel better, it wasn't going to address that matter at hand. "Who did this to you Ezra? And before you get smartass on me, I'm not talking about the beating. Who got you so unsure of yourself that you can't move past it? Who broke that spirit that we get the occasional flash of?"

"You don't know what you are talking about." Ezra's tone was flat and left no question that he was done with the discussion.

"Fine. We can come back to that one. Right now, I need an answer from you, and it better be the right one. What the hell were you thinking telling those morons you were a cop?"

Ezra relaxed ever so slightly. This was safer territory. "I was doing my job."

"Your job was to get a lead on who they are working for."

"My job is to ensure that others are not injured. Had I not intervened Josiah and JD would have been killed."

"But you figured it was ok to get yourself killed." It wasn't a question.

"Rest assured, that was not my intention. It was nothing more than a delaying technique." Chris's glare was the only response Ezra got, and he realized a more detailed explanation was going to be needed. Damn, he was too tired for all of this at the present. "Perhaps this discussion could be deferred to a later time." The glare didn't waiver. "Fine."

Ezra shifted to try to make himself more comfortable on the bed, knowing the fact of achieving such a goal was impossible. Doing his best to hide the reaction, he pushed himself to be more upright. While he may have been able to mask his facial reactions, the spasms of pain that tore through his shoulder and chest were reflexes even he could not control. Chris tried to repress both the desire to help him, and the guilt over pushing so hard right now. But he had no choice. Standish had backed out of these discussions too often. It wasn't happening this time.

"Those men would have no hesitation at killing JD and Josiah. They were immediately ready to do so. Stalling through discourse, as you advocate, was not a viable option. These men were not conversationalists. But they were proud and arrogant. I suspected they would not take kindly to the discovery of a traitor in their midst, and their need for retribution would be immediate. Vengeance would not be a swift process. Watching me suffer, humiliating me, would be the only acceptable course, and as such, would stall the inevitable fate intended for the others. Raising their ire was the only logical course of action."

"You see getting yourself beaten half to death as a logical course of action? What the hell is the matter with you?"

Ezra shrugged off the question as much as he was able to, but even such a minor move reflected in both the pain on his face and an uptick in his heart rate. A few more moves like that would have the nurses coming in to check on things, and Chris expected his ejection would come soon after. "I was aware you gentlemen were close at hand. It was a calculated gamble."

There it was. "A gamble? You think it is acceptable to gamble with your life like that?"

"Mine or theirs. It really was not a difficult decision. And one I dare say you would make in the same manner."

"I would have found another way."

"Please, enlighten me as to what that might have been. It would be beneficial to store the option for future reference."

Chris stared for close to a minute. "You aren't going to need future references Ezra. You won't be doing that again."

He didn't think it was possible at this point for Ezra to look any paler than he did, but what little colour he had drained from his face. "If that is your way of informing me that I have been more seriously injured than has been explained, you need to develop a more compassionate bedside manner."

"You're gonna be fine, eventually. But yeah, like I said, you are messed up. Two surgeries, internal bleeding, busted – well hell – busted everything."

"And it is sufficient to restrict me from returning to field work?" He plastered his poker face on, not willing to let Chris see the dismay as he was already drafting his resignation from the agency in his mind. There was no possibility he would survive sitting behind a desk doing nothing but paperwork for the rest of his career. Especially while these men, these friends, risked their lives on a daily basis. He would sooner have died on that garage floor then fact that existence.

"It isn't." Chris answered succinctly.

Confusion quickly overrode his stoic streak. "I don't understand."

"Told the guys when we brought you in here this time, I was either gonna talk sense into you, or fire you. Clearly, I can't do the first, so I am ready to do the second. Ain't letting you die on my watch Ezra. I can't live with that risk."

"That is absurd. Risk is inherent in what we do – everyday. Are you prepared to likewise terminate the employment of the remainder of the team?"

"That's the thing Ezra. The day to day risk is bad enough. I won't have a man who doesn't care about his own life out there in the field."

"I hate to repeat myself, but that is absurd."

"Is it? You do this too often. Put yourself into impossible situations. Step in where you shouldn't. Challenge the wrong people at the wrong time. I swear Ezra, it looks to me like you just don't care."

It can be very difficult, not to mention painful, to smile when you have a split lip, fractured cheekbone, cracked jawline and enough overall bruising to camouflage you face, but Ezra succeed, much to Chris's surprise and confusion. "Forgive my apparently contradictory response to your accusation. It just, I rarely find a situation where you have so thoroughly misread my motivations, and I find it amusing and fascinating."

"Remember when I called you exasperating and infuriating and all that stuff before? Wasn't lying."

"No, you were completely accurate in those designations. I suppose I should apologize for such moments in our encounters. You are not foolish enough to believe they are never done for the intention of my amusement, and that of our colleagues, but I do assure you that is not always the case."

"OK, this is the kind of stalling you should have been doing instead of getting the shit kicked outta yourself."

"As I indicated, I did not see that as an option. But your assessment of that as being a death wish could not be further from the reality." Ezra leaned back into his pillow cautiously. Lord, he had no idea it was possible to hurt in so many places at once. The grimace had the unexpected result of hardening the gaze on Larabee's face. He supposed it reminded their leader of how badly, and foolishly, things had gone wrong. "I am not stalling Chris. I am simply trying to determine how best to explain a circumstance that I myself have difficulty comprehending."

"Stop trying to say if fancy and just spell it out plain. That might help you avoid some of your usual obfuscations."

"Obfuscations? You have been paying attention when I pontificate." He allowed a small sigh as response to the renewed intensity of the glare.

"All I am asking is that you allow me to speak without interruption. Hear me though before castigating my thoughts and actions."

"No promise, but I'll try to keep it to a minimum."

Ezra nodded his acceptance. "Again, this is not a stall, but do you suppose I might have a few ice chips before we commence?"

Chris gave him a somewhat sheepish grin. "Yeah. Sorry. Should have offered that long ago." Discovering that the contents of the glass had melted, he indicated he'd be right back. Ezra was pleased for the extra time, however brief, to organize his thoughts. A moment later, parched throat quenched, he began.

"Any man who agrees to entre the field of law enforcement at any level, in any organization, and does so without the realization that such an act could prove to be fatal, is a fool. I am not a fool.

However, I can assure you, with no obfuscation, chicanery or deceit at any level, that I absolutely and undeniably do not have a death wish. Anymore.

That is not a claim, I confess, that I would have been able to make until quite recently. There have been times, long periods, when, if I were to break from character and be honest, death would have been, if not a welcome companion, at least one I did not turn away from. I was far too much of a coward to actually follow through on my thoughts of a permanent escape. Such actions required a fortitude I did not possess. After a point, I suppose one is so far down in that well of despair that the top is out of sight. An unattainable target." He paused, looking down as his hands as if he wasn't sure what they were there for. He was lost in his thoughts, and Chris stayed perfectly still, afraid any movement would shatter the mood and Ezra would simply stop speaking all together.

"I know, from what Buck has told us and what I have seen for myself, that you have an understanding of that kind of despondency and desperation. Yours came from a genuine grief, a loss that seemed unsurmountable. Mine was a wallowing of self-pity and self-loathing brought on by years of unsavory thoughts, deeds and actions." He held up the least encumbered hand as he saw Chris move to speak. "You promised."

"Don't care. Not gonna let you go on that. You swore to me you didn't do the crap you were accused of at the Bureau, so you can't just toss a comment like that one out."

"My history of careless, thoughtless, selfish and indeed criminal actions dates back long before my tenure with the FBI. At the age you were learning to ride a bicycle, I was learning how to stack a deck. When you were getting up the nerve to ask a girl out, I was asking for banking passwords. When you served your country, I served the whims and demands of a grifters and felons that I called family." He looked away, unwilling to see the look of disdain that was aimed at him.

"That just makes what you've become that much more impressive Ezra. Takes something special to overcome all of that."

"There was a time I would not have believed that you meant that. There may be a time I believe it to be true." He took in as deep a breath as his ribs would allow before proceeding.

"The contrary nature of my being allowed me to both loathe my life and adore the adventure of it. To despise what I was, and revel in the luxuries it provided – at least on those occasions I was on the winning side of a stratagem. I have never admitted, to anyone, that the original incentive for switching to the right side of the law was far from honourable. The opportunity to learn the procedures, to determine which players on both sides could be of benefit to me in the future, to be on the inside – so close to all that confiscated material. I convinced myself it would be like a kid in a candy store.

Imagine my surprise – my shock, horror – at discovering how much I enjoyed the challenge. The adrenaline rush of the chase. Nothing I had done before equalled the thrill of matching wits with lives on the line. It was a game to me at first. I can't say when it became more, but when the tide turned, and I became a pariah in the bureau, ironically for doing my job too well, it was more damaging to me than I ever could have imagined. It was proof to me that I was not destined to be allowed the life I wanted but would instead have to suffer through the life I deserved. The despair I thought I had left behind came back over me like a tsunami, wiping out all hope."

He hazarded a quick glance at the unmoving figure listening to his tale. The tension in his posture spoke of anger which was in total contradiction to the concern on his face. More telling than any was the compassion, concern and just a hint of moisture that could be seen in his eyes.

Ezra spoke softly. "More that you were expecting to hear, I am sure." He cleared his throat and continued. "You had friends who helped you see the light at the end of the tunnel. I saw that light as an oncoming speeding train and prayed for it to run me down. It never did, no matter how quickly I moved towards it."

Chris sat, trying to put himself in Ezra's line of sight, but was not able to force the contact. "Shit Ezra. You need to talk to someone about all of this. You can't live this way." He was again surprised by the slow smile that came.

"I don't. I said the top of the well was out of my sight. It didn't mean it wasn't there. When I least expected it, least deserved it, a rope appeared. I almost didn't grab it and if you recall, even when I did, I pulled so hard as to almost fall in again. Fortunately, there were six men holding on tightly to the other end and pulling, refusing to let it go. To let me go. If I lived to be a thousand, I will never fathom why that was the case."

"Maybe because that's the life you deserve." He got no answer. "It doesn't really answer my concerns Ezra. You still put yourself in the middle of shit too easily."

He knew only one way to answer. "Yes, I am willing to die. I am ready to die. If it serves to protect you, my team – my family. I am prepared for that. The fact that, despite that claim, despite my actions, I am still here and having this discussion, should be enough to demonstrate to you that I have no desire to die. How many times have the experts told you to prepare for the worst, yet here I remain. Tell me Chris. Would someone with a death wish fight so hard to stay amoung the living?"

Chris pursed his lips for a moment, before offering a half grin. "Hadn't really considered that side of it. You do fight like a son of a bitch every time you're in here. Now what we to do is figure out a way to keep you from being in here so often."

"May I assume that statement means I have not been dismissed from my position."

He sobered again. "Ain't gonna fire you Ezra. Travis likely wouldn't let me anyway, not to mention the fact the rest of the team would whoop my ass for doing it. Probably want to for even suggesting it. But that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you for this – and a few dozen other times you put yourself in the way of things."

"Is this anger directed at Buck when he subtly insures JD is behind him? Or at Vin when he leans to far over a precarious perch to ensure a shot at a perpetrator? Or at Nathan when he charges out from cover to pull one of us to safety? Or at yourself-"

"OK, I get the message. We're all stupid sometimes. Just seems that you make a habit of it."

"We all do. I just have a little less good fortune in avoiding this particular consequence. Would it make you feel better if I vow to focus my attention on reversing that trend?"

"Wouldn't hurt."

"And would that vow be sufficient to allow you to go home to get some rest and allow me to do likewise."

Chris rubbed his hand over his face, partially to acknowledge his fatigue and partially to hide the smile he was too tired to fight off. "I suppose some shuteye would do us both good." He stretched as he stood. "Get some rest Ezra. The guys are anxious to get in here and see for themselves you're ok."

"Will I be facing similar lectures from them?"

After a few seconds of review, Chris tilted his head slightly. "Nathan will tell you how to handle the aches and pains. Buck and Vin will tell you not to be so reckless. JD will just keep apologizing for getting you hurt. Josiah, well he's just so damn glad you're alive he likely won't say much of anything."

"So, business as usual."

"Yeah – pretty much."

"Chris?" He was almost to the door when Ezra called quietly, and he turned back to see what was needed. "I am glad we had our chat."

He smiled softly. "Me too Ezra. Me too."

 **M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

 _ **The End**_


End file.
